


Stopped In Your Tracks

by Krasimer



Series: Stay In Your Court (Bring You Home) [4]
Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Along with David Annapurna, Court Trial, Dude went into hiding when Murkoff tried to hunt him down, M/M, Murkoff VS the State, Murkoff goes to court, Waylon and Miles tell the whole fucking world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 05:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8831497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: "Your name is Miles Upshur?""Yes."The man held out a bible, a serious expression on his face. "Put your left hand on the bible," he paused, waiting until Miles did before continuing. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?""I do," Miles could feel his face trying to turn into a scowl as he noticed some of the Murkoff employees watching him intently.





	1. Chapter 1

"Your name is Miles Upshur?"

"Yes."

The man held out a bible, a serious expression on his face. "Put your left hand on the bible," he paused, waiting until Miles did before continuing. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?"

"I do," Miles could feel his face trying to turn into a scowl as he noticed some of the Murkoff employees watching him intently. 

 

xXx

 

His hands were warm as he pressed them into Miles' back, holding him close as they watched a movie together. 

The smaller man was always so cold, had grown up in Texas and had gotten used to the warmth there. Becoming a reporter had shifted his location and he'd moved somewhere the warmth couldn't reach him anymore. Miles shifted, mostly asleep, and tucked his face into Chris's shoulder, mumbling gently. He could feel the exact moment he fell completely asleep, his breathing evening out and his limbs going loose.

Chris held onto him even tighter, one hand going to brush hair out of his eyes. 

 

xXx

 

"And what, Mister Upshur," the lawyer paced in front of him, her glasses reflecting the light softly, a contrast to the sharpness in her eyes. "Is this?"

She pointed to a chain that was sitting on a table, the ends of it rusted. 

Miles held up his chin, looking back at her with the same sort of anger he saw in her expression. "That's the chain that was on the wrist of Christopher Lewis Walker, ma'am. I took it off of his arm myself," he held up his own arm. "It was wrapped so tightly around his wrist that he still has scarring. When I found him in the asylum, he was bloodied and injured."

"And what was this chain doing on Mister Walker's wrist?"

"It was used as a restraint," Miles took a deep breath. "The other patients were held by handcuffs and other such things. Walker was held by chains because it was the only thing that could actually hold him."

 

xXx

 

The credits of the movie rolled by, some soft sort of music playing over them.

Chris smiled, still holding Miles to his chest while the man slept. Panda was curled up on their feet and it was a good thing that neither of them planned on moving for a while. He didn't want to anyway and the dog was making sure of it.

He rolled carefully onto his back, taking Miles with him. 

The shorter man groaned in his sleep and shoved his face deeper into Chris's shoulder, one leg hitching up his waist. After Miles had tried to sleep on the old couch for a few more weeks, the damn thing had been replaced by a much softer, newer one. It was a warm blue color, almost overstuffed, and the trip to the furniture store had seen Chris testing the length of every model they considered. 

This one fit him nicely, almost eight-feet long. Enough room for everyone important, he'd joked to Miles.

Miles' laughter had been the best thing to hear after so long without it.

 

xXx

 

"And would it be fair, Mister Upshur, to say that you were, in fact, trespassing at the time?"

"No, actually," Miles held his chin up, almost defiant as he looked at Murkoff's lawyer. "I was invited by an employee. I'm a member of the press, you see. My job is to expose wrong doings in corporations just like Murkoff. An employee from Murkoff invited me in to try and tell the world of their dealings."

"So you were, in fact, invited in?" 

"That is what I just said, yes," shifting slightly, Miles raised an eyebrow. "Do you need me to repeat my statement, sir?"

The man looked ready to smack him as he shook his head. "That won't be necessary. Can you tell us the name of the employee?"

"His name was Waylon Park. I don't know if he got out alive," Miles looked towards the lawyer he actually liked. She looked back at him and nodded. "I found files, when everything started going wrong, that proved he'd been involuntarily committed to the asylum after contacting me."

His lawyer stepped forward and handed the printout that he had found in the asylum to the judge. 

"An email from Jeremy Blaire to someone else in the company," she said. "It suggests that Blaire falsified evidence and a reason for resignation for one Waylon Park," she handed over another piece of paper, reading off the title as she did. " 'Project Walrider Patient Status Report of Eddie Gluskin'," she almost smirked when Murkoff's lawyer snarled behind her back.

Miles decided, right then, that he almost adored her.

 

xXx

 

It was close to midnight when Miles finally woke back up.

He blinked slowly, sleepily, and made a displeased sort of noise as he looked around. "Hrmm," he groaned as he stretched his back. "'S time?"

Chris grinned. "Nearly midnight. The movie ended a couple of hours ago," he nudged a strand of hair out of Miles' eye. "You needed the rest, haven't been sleeping right. Can tell, can hear you when you toss and turn."

"Mm," Miles nodded. "Next time you're awake too, come out and talk to me. Might help you sleep a bit better," he slid off of Chris's chest, stretching again before getting clumsily to his feet. "M'kay, big guy? No more nightmares, not for either of us. Therapy says talking helps, keeps us out of our own heads."

He headed into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it at the sink. 

When he stayed in there for more than a minute, Panda made a snuffling noise and got up, following him with her back end wagging slowly. "Hey Panda," Miles muttered.

His hair was mussed and he was still sleep-relaxed. His eyes were dark, calm and happy as he watched Panda lick the palm of his hand, ruffling the fur between her ears. Chris watched them, a small smile on his own face. 

After far too long and far too much bullshit, he was finally home.

 

xXx

 

"May I ask, Mister Annapurna," she paused as he nodded. "What was your role as an employee of Murkoff?"

"I was an orderly," David Annapurna leaned into the microphone, casting a nervous glance at the Murkoff side of the court. "I tended to the needs of the patients and tried my best to keep them safe and happy."

"Tried your best?"

Murkoff's employee sighed. "Obviously he was unable to perform the role he was hired for. This man is a disgruntled ex-employee," he turned to the judge. "Do we really need his testimony?"

"I _was_ unable to perform the role I was hired for," David's voice took on an edge of anger. "But that's because the conditions of the asylum were vile. I saw patients acting out in ways I have never seen before and I've been an orderly for my entire adult life."

The judge held up a hand. "Mister Sanderson, please let the witness proceed. Mister Annapurna?"

David cleared his throat, glancing briefly at Miles where he sat in the audience. "I saw evidence of abuse on many of the patients. Some of them would go for a visit with one of the doctors and they would come back with bruises consistent with physical, even sexual abuse. I," he cleared his throat again. "The conditions they kept the patients in were horrible. I saw things like bandages being unchanged for too long and wounds not being treated. There was a patient named Frank Manera and another patient named Martin Archimbaud. I was working fairly closely with Frank and Martin. Martin liked finger painting until they shut down the arts program, citing expense."

He took a quick swallow of water. "And patients kept disappearing into the basement. A young man named William Hope was one of them. If I remember correctly, his mother had a lawsuit filed against Murkoff."

 

xXx

 

"I was thinking," Chris started quietly when Miles walked back to the couch. "If..."

Miles waited, his head cocked to one side. When Chris didn't continue, he smiled. "What, did I lose you somewhere in your head? C'mon big guy, talk to me," he nudged Chris's arm away from his side and sat next to him. "Come back out of your head."

"If you wanted," Chris looked at the wall and took a deep breath. 

"Up for a lot of stuff here," Miles nudged his head against Chris's side. "I went looking for you for a year and I saw what they did to you when you were there. Trust me when I say that nothing is moving me from your side," he reached down to pet Panda, the border collie having come back into the room where both of her people were. "You're stuck with me."

Chris's hand rose to bury in Miles' hair, scratching gently at his scalp. After a moment, he nodded. "Bed is half-empty," he muttered. "Too lonely. Not expecting anything, just...Might be easier. To sleep," he stuttered over a syllable, a half-formed word that died before it got out. "I mean."

"Yeah?" Miles pulled back to look at his face, an eyebrow raised. "Are you up for it? Remember, I squirm in my sleep."

"Until I put an arm around you," Chris shot back, grinning. "You always hold still then."

"Oh, so that's why I always woke up cocooned in your limbs, you managed to find the off button for the sleep wiggling," Miles laughed, turning to wrap his arms around Chris's chest. They sat like that for a moment, Panda resting her head on their knees, looking between them and giving them both a dog smile when a hand from each of them scratched behind her ears. "I missed you," he whispered.

With one hand on Panda's head and one hand on Miles', Chris's smile was soft. "I missed you too."

 

xXx

 

The door at the end of the courtroom opened slowly, admitting a few police officers and a fairly short man with blonde hair.

Miles watched him walk in, eyebrows raised. The man walked with a cane, oddly enough, even though he looked to be in his early thirties. His eyes were dark and his hair was dyed blonde, the roots showing a little. He looked worried, like fear and paranoia were constants in his life.

When the man took the stand and was sworn in, Miles nearly choked.

"Waylon Park," said the lawyer he had come to like in this trial. "Would you like to tell the court why you called in a reporter to Mount Massive Asylum?"

Waylon nodded, taking a moment to breathe. "The conditions of the patients, ma'am. I saw them put the patients into a testing setup that definitely had nothing to do with trying to make them better," he turned partway to look at Murkoff's goons, sitting in their seats and their lawyer. Halfway to looking at them, he stopped and twitched, refocusing on the woman in front of him. "They put them into a sort of test tube setup and shoved tubing down their throat. They- They put them into something called a Morphogenic engine."

"And what, exactly, is a Morphogenic engine?"

"A nightmare," Waylon shuddered. "I don't exactly know the science behind it. I was a programmer for them, you see, I only worked with the code."

"Alright Mister Park, thank yo-"

"They put me into it."

The entire courtroom went silent, even the stenographer stopped typing. He continued when the lawyer started speaking again. "They put you into it?"

"I was asked to fix the FMRI, it wasn't working right," Waylon paused, taking another deep breath. "That was the day I contacted a couple of reporters. I had to work around the Murkoff firewall, they kept us from contacting the outside world. On the way into Mount Massive, there were signal jammers, they blocked out radio signals. On," he swallowed nervously, looking at the Murkoff men. "On the day I contacted the reporters, they put a man named Eddie Gluskin into the engine and he begged me to get him out."

"And," she fumbled for her words for a moment. "And what was Mister Gluskin like?"

"When I first saw him, he was coherent. He seemed," Waylon frowned as he thought, his knuckles going white as he gripped the head of his cane, his eyes far away. "He was terrified and obviously upset. When I saw him again, later, after they put me in with the patients, he was no longer lucid. His grip on reality had slipped completely."

"What do you mean by that?"

"He took the other patients and he-" Waylon shuddered. "He..." he mumbled something, rubbing at his face. "He performed amateur surgery on them. Mount Massive only had male patients, you see, and he- he wanted a wife," he tried to breathe, gasping instead. "He nearly managed to do the same to me. He had a whole room of 'Wives', all of them hanging from the ceiling.

"I don't know what the Engine did to him," Waylon refocused himself on the lawyer. "But I know it made him worse. Mount Massive Asylum was meant to help people and it _failed_ in that regard because of the people in charge. The Murkoff Corporation is entirely at fault."

The lawyer nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. "Thank you, Mister Park. You may step down."

Waylon retreated from the witness box like it had burned him, hobbling across the room to sit near what Miles assumed was an armed guard for Park's safety.

 

xXx

 

The bed was warm and soft and Miles loved it.

Chris sat down on the edge first, curling his legs onto it afterward and looking at Miles. They were almost the same height now, Miles realized as Chris smiled at him. "So, we're going to do this like we used to. Are you sure you-"

He broke off when Chris immediately nodded. "I missed you," he said again, reaching for Miles' hand. "Sleeping isn't the same without you here."

"Alright," Miles went around to his side of the bed, dropping himself down onto it. "Come here," he reached for Chris, wrapping both of his hands around one of his. "Don't make this awkward. If we're going to cuddle, you come cuddle me, don't try to stay over there."

"Bossy."

"You knew this already and you love it."

Both of them stopped, Miles looking up to see Chris blinking, his expression shocked. "I do," Chris muttered after a moment. "Never stopped."

"Well..." Miles laughed nervously. "Good. I never stopped either. So get your ass over here and fucking cuddle me already."

He let himself be pulled into Chris's arms, pressed chest-to-chest with the larger man. His own arms were curled protectively around Chris, the palms of his hands pressed tightly into his back. When they were settled together neatly, almost no room between them, Miles sighed in relief.

"Missed this, too," Chris mumbled.

Miles nodded, his thumb stroking gently over a patch of scarred dots he knew were on Chris's side. "Yeah, big guy, me too."  
They sat there in silence, sleep starting to circle down around them when Miles groaned. "The trial starts in a few days," he said quietly. "And unless they ask you to be a witness for it, I want you to stay here. Or at least stay where they can't find you."

"Where won't they find me?"

"I don't know," Miles growled the words out. "But they don't get to take you away again."

 

xXx

 

"Mister Walker," the lawyer turned to him. "If you could tell the court why you were at Mount Massive."

Chris cleared his throat, tugging nervously on the cuff of his shirt. "I was on my way home from deployment," he said into the microphone. "I was rerouted, told that it was a requirement for going home this time. I checked into the asylum for what I thought was a psychiatric evaluation."

"And in the time they had you there," she turned to look at Murkoff's lawyer. "What happened to you?"

He held up one of his arms, pulling his sleeve up to expose his wrist. "I was chained down, sedated, injected with things I couldn't identify, and when I was too weak to fight back, I was put into the Morphogenic Engine."

She nodded. "How is it that you are here, right now?"

"I was rescued," he raised his chin, defiance in his eyes as the men representing Murkoff glared at him. "By my partner. You see, I had left my boyfriend and our dog at home. We had just moved in together, still moving his stuff into my apartment, when Murkoff made me disappear from the normal world."

"Can you name your boyfriend?"

"He has been up here already," Chris grinned. "And his name is Miles Upshur. He went looking for me when I vanished, but he wasn't in my files because of Don't Ask, Don't Tell. It was repealed a few years ago, but my squadron leader kept hold of it."

"There was no listed history of mental illness in your family, is this correct?"

Chris snorted, already nodding. "Nothing listed because there is no history. My three-times great aunt's husband had something, but I can hardly see how that's relevant. I was falsely diagnosed, they said I had something called Borderline Schizophrenic Destructive Disorder. Now," he met the lawyer's eyes. "I've got friends who were medical staff in hospitals and on the front line. I've _never_ heard of that before and I've been friends with those guys since I was in high school. I've heard more medical terms than I can care to remember and that was never one of them."

Miles watched as Waylon's hands went tight around his cane, his knuckles almost bloodless as e watched Chris. "Hey," he whispered, leaning slightly closer. Not close enough to grab the attention of the man's guards. "It'll be alright. I'm pretty sure we're winning."

Waylon turned to look at him, confusion on his face as he studied Miles' features. 

He held out his hand. "Miles Upshur."

A look of triumph in his eyes, Waylon grinned. "Glad you survived," he whispered back, taking Miles' hand. "Waylon Park."

"You helped me find my boyfriend," Miles grinned back, keeping his voice low. "You gave me the story of the century, you helped me find my boyfriend, you're in the process of getting Murkoff destroyed. I'm glad you survived, too. Wouldn't be here if not for you," he looked up to see one of Waylon's guards watching him, a careful hand on the gun he wore tucked into a holster on his thigh. "Keep this guy alive, alright? We need him to survive."

The guard nodded and Miles sat back in his seat.

 

xXx

 

"I'm going with you," was the first thing he heard the next morning.

Miles blinked slowly, yawning so wide he thought he'd popped his jaw out of place. "What?"

"To the trial," Chris pulled on a jacket, gathering Panda's leash. "I'm going with you. I'm going to tell the whole world what happened there. Murkoff doesn't get to keep secrets," he shook his head, adjusting the collar for a moment. "I'm going to tell the court everything I know and Murkoff is going to burn to the fucking ground."

Swallowing nervously, Miles felt a rise of panic in his gut. "Okay," he started slowly. "And if Murkoff tries to take you away again?"

"Then I'm going to fight back."

Miles nodded, still blinking sleep out of his eyes. "And what if they-" he stopped when Chris's jaw tightened.

With Panda's leash wrapped around both of his hands, Chris looked away, the nylon braid twisting under his nervous grip. "What if they try to take you this time?" he said quietly. "You...You haven't gone to self-defense classes in a while, you're a reporter so you haven't had time on the front lines trying to keep yourself and everyone around you alive, you-" he shuddered as he took a deep breath. "I don't want to lose you again and I especially don't want them getting you into their testing like they did with me."

"I'll be okay, they have police in court for a reason."

"But only if there's a threat to your life or you're the one being lead out from a prison cell," Chris shot back. "I don't know how they would accommodate you when Murkoff hasn't given you an explicit reason to be afraid for your safety."

"I'm going to have you there," Miles stepped forward, leaning in close and taking one of Chris' hands in his own. "And I fucking dare them to try and take you away from me ever again."


	2. The Finale

  
[Murkoff loses part two](http://will-i-always.deviantart.com/art/Murkoff-loses-part-two-695359203) by [will-i-always](http://will-i-always.deviantart.com/) on [DeviantArt](http://www.deviantart.com)  
[Murkoff loses](http://will-i-always.deviantart.com/art/Murkoff-loses-695357906) by [will-i-always](http://will-i-always.deviantart.com/) on [DeviantArt](http://www.deviantart.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so ya'll better enjoy these because I actually wrote that article myself and I edited this all together with the help of a couple of fake newspaper and news generators.
> 
> This series was so much fun to work on, I will miss it and I may return to it in the future, but this feels like the end. I grew attached to Chris and Miles and Panda and now I have to go write them being tortured (Sans Panda, Panda has done nothing wrong and deserves nothing bad.) and Miles has to lose his lover and his happiness and become the angry guy he is in canon.
> 
> Of course, that brings me to the exciting news of: THERE'S ANOTHER SERIES I AM PLANNING!
> 
> I am a dork and I REALLY like soulmate AUs and I have one planned for the cast of Outlast. It's a First Words AU and it'll contain Miles/Chris and some...Kind of twisted Waylon/Eddie.

**Author's Note:**

> And now we're coming to a close with this series. I hope you all enjoyed and I hope this part was just as good.
> 
> If you liked it, why not tell me in the comments? I love hearing from my readers and I am personally very pleased with how this story came out.


End file.
